lapis lazuli

"Oh my, I love your lapis," said the cashier at World Market. He was very friendly and extremely gay, and he flashed me the thick silver ring on his third finger. The blue stone set in the middle was the exact shade of cerulean as the three silver-banded rings I was wearing. He pointed and I looked down at them, flexing the fingers on my left hand.

"Thanks," I said, placing my Haribo packets on the counter. "I love this color."

"Me too," he went on. "Are you into Egyptology?"

A tingling of déjà vu crept down the back of my neck. Wasn't this the same guy from last winter who complimented my garnet ring and asked if I was born in January? No, I'd answered him then. I was born in December and I just liked the bloodred color. Isn't December's birthstone turquoise? Yes, it is. And I have a lot of that, too.

"Well," I said, "I did see The Mummy when I was a kid."

My grandmother's lapis scarab pendant still sits quietly in my jewelry chest.